


Breathing Under Water

by Lady_Of_Paper_7



Series: Breathing Under Water [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Rescue, Stucky - Freeform, alternative ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-01-29 12:26:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12631047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Of_Paper_7/pseuds/Lady_Of_Paper_7
Summary: It was only a matter of time until he had to surface again but as long as he was down here, he could tell himself that up there Bucky was himself again or that he’d just imagined the past days.Steve figured he still had a couple of seconds before he had to start fighting off the numbness which was creeping up his limbs and the darkness that kept pushing closer.(What should have happened at the end of the movie)





	1. Till The End Of The Line

The water was cold as ice as it closed around and above him. Given the fact that it was a whole river which was engulfing him, this wasn’t all that surprising since the carrier, which he’d fallen from just heart beats earlier, had been partially on fire and the fact, that his fight with the Winter Soldier had also left him drenched in cold sweat and with his heart hammering away in his chest, added to the shock of the low temperature.

For a single moment the thought that if he breathed the air that was left in his lungs out into the bluish depths, he’d be able to see it steam before him in the cool darkness went through Steve Rogers’ mind. He let go of that idea rather quickly however as Bucky’s face kept pushing itself to the fore of his mind’s eye, or rather what had been done to it; the assassin, who’d probably already vanished up there while Steve had plunged into the waves, definitely was James Buchanan Barnes and yet there was almost nothing of the James Barnes he’d grown up with, lived with, laughed with, fought with, annoyed the hell out of and loved to bits left in him.

There had been no sign of recognition in his eyes when he’d attacked him and had just barely refrained from bashing in his skull with his cybernetic fist – he’d been cradling his other, real arm to his chest - and only seconds before Steve had fallen from the carrier something had seemed to flicker in those dead eyes. He wasn’t sure whether he should tell himself that it had been his words which had been responsible for that shift but as the pressure the waves put onto his chest and lungs started to increase he just felt stupid and like, once again, everything he’d done had been wrong. Just like all those times Bucky had patched him up after a fight he’d gotten himself into and he’d called him a punk. Back then he’d been the one who told Steve that he’d be there for him ‘till the end of the line’. But that had been back then.

The water was murky, not even half as clean as it had looked from above and his eyes started stinging, the tight feeling in his chest growing tighter and tighter as he held his breath. The serum he’d been injected with all those years ago had transformed him into the super soldier that was Captain America but it had not turned his body into a machine which was able to get by without food, sleep or – most importantly – oxygen. So it was only a matter of time until he had to surface again but as long as he was down here, he could tell himself that up there Bucky was himself again or that he’d just imagined the past days. He figured he still had a couple of seconds before he had to start fighting off the numbness which was creeping up his limbs and the darkness that kept pushing closer.

Both his mind and body felt extremely heavy as he sunk deeper, the blood pulsating in his ears as he felt himself slip away further and further, the deeper he sunk. His eyes slipped shut and his head felt ponderous. Seawater started filling his mouth and nostrils, leaving behind burning trails and Steve attempted to force his eyes back open, tried to make his feet kick and arms push against the dirty water.

The cuts he’d received earlier had been throbbing ever since he’d fallen off the carrier and other areas of his skin were pulling tighter over the soon-to-be bruises he would probably carry around with him during the next days. The last time, someone had inflicted similar damage upon him with just their fists had been long ago, way before he’d lost his best friend, before he’d been changed actually.

He couldn’t bring his body to fight against the water pressing him down, even though his mind was screaming for him to move even a single muscle. Open his eyes. Anything.

It had not been as dark underwater as he’d expected, at least not back when his eyes had still been open and Steve tipped his head backwards to maybe catch one last glimpse at the sun he’d been able to see through the water above him before he’d lose consciousness. He almost thought, he saw something dark pushing downwards through the waves before everything went black.

 

\---

 

He was freezing when he came to again, both, his body and uniform soaked through and through. But most importantly he couldn’t breath and his chest still felt as tight as it had when he’d been under water.

His fingers were clawing at the ground beneath him, digging through earth and small rocks but he wasn’t able to push himself up or onto his side. His vision already started growing fuzzy again and his lungs were burning when a shadow fell over him.

 

\----

 

James Barnes didn’t know where he was or what he was doing - he didn’t even know what he was supposed to do, which never happened; He’d wake up, the men or clients would tell him what to do, he would comply their orders and that was it. There was no room for any uncertainty or even a single thought that didn’t have anything to do with the mission. Well there hadn’t been until his fight with this man on the carrier earlier.

He had said something to him, Bucky wouldn’t even be able to repeat the words – or would he? – and something had changed. His head was no longer empty apart from his orders; to be precise it felt like it was overstuffed with shreds of strange images and voices and he couldn’t think with the noise drowning out everything else. It hurt. He was clenching his teeth.

Yet, he’d jumped after him into the river and pulled that man from the water and dragged him to the edge of the shore. He didn’t know why and he had no idea what he was supposed to do next. The only thing on his mind had been that he could not let the man, who’d went on and on to him about them knowing each other and kept calling him Bucky, drown. Especially after he had almost-

But now, out of the water and lying there on his back, he wasn’t moving at all and an uneasy feeling was making its way into Bucky’s guts. He took a hesitant step towards him and the man coughed wetly, his hands pawing the ground as he kept choking, not able to help himself.

Bucky stopped dead in his tracks, water still dripping from his clothes, and starred down at the man, not seeing him at all as he remembered; _a short young man, so skinny that every single rip was visible through his pale skin, laying on his back in a tiny twin sized bed and coughing his lungs out, his blond hair sticking to his forehead. And another taller, broader boy with short dark hair running to his side and gently helping him onto his side and placing his hand on his back and pulling him into his arms as soon as he stopped coughing. He talked to him in a soft voice and pressed their foreheads together, whispering ‘It’s okay, Stevie, I’ve got you’, over and over and the skinny boy showed him a weak grin, ‘I know’ before he pulled him down and kissed him, ‘and don’t call me that’._

“Stevie”, he echoed in a hoarse voice as he dropped to his knees beside him, and helped him roll onto his side, his cybernetic hand carefully patting his back as Steve coughed up sea water, “Steve”, his real arm was stiffly hanging at his side and he was trying to avoid every movement that would affect it and sent another flare of pain up his forearm and elbow. He’d have to put it in a splint later.

The two of them looked different than they had in his memory, Bucky noted when he carefully slung his metal arm around Steve’s chest as he tried to catch his breath and pulled him close. He couldn’t feel his bones through his clothes like he remembered but he could feel him shake against him as he calmed down. He was moving on autopilot, like he’d learned every movement by heart long ago and now was just following through well-known procedures; “I’ve got you. You’re alright”, he was finally doing something right.

 _This feels right_ , he mused, even though his voice felt scratchy and he had to clear his throat before he spoke; it had been a long time since he’d used it after all. It had been even longer since he’d done it on his own accord and without being spoken to or being asked a question. God, his head hurt. Everything hurt.

“I know, Buck”, Steve rasped, and clutched onto the same cybernetic arm, which had almost beaten him to death not too long ago and he could feel a slight jerk go through it at the sound of the pet name, “just don’t leave me again.”

“I… I won’t”, Bucky said hesitantly, more because he didn’t know what else to say than anything else, as he pulled them into a sitting position, earth sticking to their clothes and hair, “but we can’t stay here”

“I’ve got someone we can stay with”, Steve pushed himself to his feet, despite the bemused look on the other’s face, which was just plainly saying ‘What are you doing? Take it slow’, and offered him his hand, “Howard Stark’s son, Tony“, he said, hoping the name would trigger a memory but Bucky merely gazed at him with a lost look on his face, “he’s a friend of mine and we can stay at his place.”

“You’re sure?” – what was he doing? He’d been supposed to take this man – Steve - out, not save him from drowning and then trail after him. But how was he supposed to kill _Steve_? Bucky pressed the tips of his fingers against his closed eyelids; nothing made sense - why did he have no idea what was going on?

“’course. I mean, he’s not literally on the ground right now but he won’t mind-“, Steve didn’t mention that Tony was currently on Asgard with his boyfriend who happened to be the god of mischief.

“I meant us staying there together”, Bucky swallowed dully.

“Bucky-“

“No, I’m serious. I barely remember your name and that’s about it. I can’t-“

“Shut up”, Steve grabbed his left hand, the one made out of metal, and squeezed it in his, lifting his other hand up to cup his face, “you remember me”, he insisted when his friend gasped quietly and went completely still but didn’t push him off.

“Kind of, but I –Steve, I don’t”, he squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, “I mean, I’m not sure-“

“It’s okay, Bucky we’ve got time. We’ll work everything out once I’ve gotten to you a safe place.”

“I don’t think, I’m the guy you remember”, Bucky’s voice was hollow and his eyes seemed darker. Steve had to understand that this was crazy. He had to see who- what he was talking to.

“You don’t have to be”

“I don’t even know _who_ I am or who I’m supposed to be”, his voice grew louder but for some reason, he wasn’t all that surprised when his words went unheeded.

“We’ll find out together then”, Steve squeezed his hand tightly in his; he would not loose Bucky again, he wouldn’t.

“Steve…”, a life time ago, Bucky would have started crying. Because he was frustrated, because it was all too much, because he was hurting all over, his head a mess, countless memories swirling together without any sense of order to it. Because the only thing he knew was that this was Steve, the most important thing in a previous life and yet he didn’t know anything about him. Because there was nothing in his head but gory images, faces that kept popping up, words in several languages screaming together but he’d been trained to well for that – Hydra had probably taken the ability to cry from him completely when they’d had the chance. He was shaking- he was broken, nothing more than the broken shell of the man Steve remembered, who Bucky barely remembered at all.

He couldn’t do this. _He couldn’t do this to Steve_.

“Shut up”, Steve repeated, very slowly wrapping his arms around him so Bucky had the chance to push him away at any moment and careful not to touch his right arm, and hugged him close, his fingers sliding into his damp brown hair and his other hand settling on the small of his back, “Nothing matters as long as you’re okay.”, he pressed his lips against the side of his head –he’d waited so long for this – “I’m not leaving you”, he wanted to do more than that so badly.

“I’m sorry”, Bucky slumped against him, “I-”

“Don’t”, Steve firmly cut him off, “don’t.”

“We should get going at some point”, Bucky whispered.

“At some Point”


	2. A Mild Inconvenience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was so much he had to tell Steve but his head still felt like it was about to split in two, too many images and sounds swirling together in there and Bucky was afraid that once he’d open his mouth, reams and reams of words would pour out and he wouldn’t be able to control or even stop it.

Managing to get himself and Bucky to the Avengers-Tower would have been a bold venture on a normal day of Steve Roger’s life. Compared to the week he’d had, it had been a mild inconvenience, which had merely added another couple of hours to their latency, until Sam and Natasha had picked them up from the remote hideout they’d agreed upon before they’d split up to take on Pierce and his minions.

“We haven’t seen you”, Natasha told them once Bucky and Steve had settled in the back of their dirty gray van, Steve squatting on the floor in between the driver’s seat and backseat after he’d finally managed to talk Bucky into curling up on the backseat, his fingers casually curled around Bucky’s, whose left arm was hanging off the bench seat, ”we haven’t even heard of you since we split up yesterday”.

“Alright”, Bucky blinked at the sound of the captain’s voice but didn’t make a sound as he tentatively tightened his grip on his hand. There was so much he had to tell Steve but his head still felt like it was about to split in two, too many images and sounds swirling together in there and Bucky was afraid that once he’d open his mouth, reams and reams of words would pour out and he wouldn’t be able to control or even stop it. The car jerked to the left and he bit his teeth when his right shoulder bumped against the recline. Without a word, Steve pressed his lips against the cool cybernetic fingers before he laid his forehead against the edge of the bench, next to Bucky’s. They could hear Sam’s and Natasha’s hushed conversation from the front half of the vehicle over the silent rumbling of the car radio but neither of them really felt like partaking and the rest of their ride ended up taking about barely twenty minutes anyway.

“Tony’s the only one who’d have been able to lock you out of the tower and he didn’t before he left with Loki so that shouldn’t be a problem”, Natasha told them when the car jolted to a halt while Sam drummed the tips of his fingers against the steering wheel, “they’ll be back in a couple of weeks but if it comes down to it, we’ll send word to them and they’ll come back early”

“I take it, you won’t stay here”, Steve pushed the door shut once his best friend stood beside him.

“We’ll come over once things have calmed down”

“Okay, stay safe”

“Yeah right”, Natasha shot them a wry smile and Sam snorted whilst raising his brows before they drove off and Steve guided Bucky through the dark of Tony’s abandoned private parking level until they reached the elevator and he entered his personal seven-digit code.

“J.A.R.V.I.S., it’s me and a friend of mine”, Steve said unnecessarily and watched Bucky’s face, which didn’t give anything away, when the AI answered in his smooth voice. He’d already told him about a few characteristics of the tower so he wouldn’t be too shocked but with the detached way he’d been behaving since he’d agreed to come with him to the tower, Steve had no way of telling what was going on in his head.

“Would you tell Dr. Banner to come to my floor in about two hours please?”, Bucky stiffly followed him first into the cage, then into the well-lit foyer of the floor Tony had given him. He hadn’t said a word since they’d left the riverside behind them and had met up with the others. He hadn’t let go of Steve’s hand either. He hadn’t been touched like that – without an agenda of causing him pain – since he’d fallen from that train and he wasn’t strong enough to pass it up now.

“ _Of course, Mr. Rogers_ ”

“Thank you, J.A.R.V.I.S.”, Steve watched Bucky examine every inch of the room they were in with an unmoving face. _He shouldn’t be here, he was putting Steve and his friends in danger every second he spent at this place_ , Bucky bit his lip as he looked back at up at him and swallowed thickly. His head throbbed. _This was wrong._

“Bruce’s on our team as well and I wanted to ask him whether he could have a look at your arm”, _and what else Hydra’s done to you_ , “okay?”

Bucky had an absent look in his eyes and almost gagged on the ‘okay’ he whispered as an answer. He swallowed again.

“And I thought”, Steve mirrored his gaze with a worried expression, “it might be a good idea to get cleaned up beforehand”, he pointedly looked down at their still wet and mud-stained clothes. Bucky’s eyes widened slightly before he automatically schooled his face into a neutral expression; the last time he’d gotten seriously hurt during a mission – which had been years ago – and someone had tended to his injuries, his clothes had unceremoniously been torn off him and he’d been restrained to a grimy steel-table before his wounds had been dressed. No one had cared to give him as much as aspirin for the pain but by then, having someone set shattered bones and sew the wounds shut had by far not been the worst thing that had been done to him, so he’d bitten down on the rag they’d stuffed between his teeth and not made a sound. He shook his head and tried to push that thought away. This time his voice cracked as he said “okay”

“Bucky”, Steve carefully laid his hand on his shoulder when he didn’t get another response.

“Come on”, he eventually whispered and guided him towards the bathroom which was bigger than the entire apartment they’d shared back in Brooklyn, “I got your back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to Keep up with the weeky updates; thank you so very much for reading


	3. By The Second

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Want me to leave?”
> 
> Bucky blinked and abruptly turned his head towards him, his eyes suddenly a little clearer, “please don’t”, he whispered and reached out to him with his left arm but stopped before he could actually touch him, “-unless, unless you want to of course”

Steve gently plucked Bucky’s left hand from the buckles off his gear; he’d been working on onehandedly undoing them for several minutes already but his movements had become kind of sluggish and in turn fitful since they’d excited the car and Steve was getting more concerned by the second.

“How can you even breath in this thing?”, he incredulously asked, a half-hearted try to take Bucky’s mind off… whatever was going on in there, as he carefully unbuckled the black holsters and belts that were tied around his chest and hips and dropped them onto the counter before he slowly loosened the clasps and buttons of the leather jacket. Bucky shrugged but held still while Steve slipped the sleeveless side of the jacket off his left shoulder.

“Sorry”, he told him when he carefully peeled the right sleeve off and wasn’t able to prevent tugging at his injured arm as well but Bucky kept quiet, standing there in between bathtub and sink on his bare feet, his black jeans and top clinging to his gaunt frame and starred off into the distance. A great dull numbness was enveloping his thoughts and he felt himself slipping under; his head was shutting down.

Steve pressed his lips together and waited for him to move, say something, do anything but he eventually just continued carefully taking off the rest of his clothes, as well as an astonishing amount of tiny knives and daggers, and putting everything down on the counter. He almost reached out to brush the tips of his fingers over the pale scars and bruises on his chest, stomach and limbs but managed to control himself and inconspicuously balled his fists at his sides, whispering Bucky’s name but still didn’t get a reaction. He wasn’t even certain that he could hear him.

“Mind the step”, he eventually, carefully steered his best friend towards the tub and helped him in and sit down in the warm water and foam and lean back against its edging, his cybernetic arm dangling over the brim.

“Want me to leave?”

Bucky blinked and abruptly turned his head towards him, his eyes suddenly a little clearer, “please don’t”, he whispered and reached out to him with his left arm but stopped before he could actually touch him, “-unless, unless you want to of course”

“Alright”, Steve met his friend’s hand halfway and laced their fingers before he sat down on the floor and leaned up against the tub. Back in Brooklyn he would always run his free hand up and down the inside of Bucky’s arm when they were lying in bed or sitting cuddled up on the couch whilst holding hands. He’d always been ridiculously ticklish there and had ended up crying with laughter or hauling Steve into his lap and wrapping his arms tightly around him to keep his arms pinned to his sides when he did it.

“Thank you”, Bucky said softly and they sat in silence for a while.

They had never really sat in silence for longer periods of time before Bucky had been shipped off to war - not because they didn’t know what to say - Steve thought, looking at his friend with a lump in his throat. The main reason for that had been, that Bucky had never been able to sit still longer than five minutes at a time and had always smothered Steve with affection and told him sweet nothings, made him dance with him to the radio and the like when they were alone or had went on and on to him about people he’d met or fights he’d won, or anything that had come to his mind when they were in public. Their life had not necessarily been easy, but Bucky had never let that bring them down and had always spent a big amount of time and energy on cheering him up and distract Steve from its more dire aspects. He had never allowed them – Steve - to give up, no matter how hopeless the battle they were fighting seemed to be.

Bucky met his gaze but Steve still had the feeling that there was something that cut him off from him, like an invisible barrier had been put up around his best friend. He opened and closed his mouth but no sound came out and Steve could feel his fingers tremble in between his and see him furrow his eyebrows in frustration.

“Stop it”, he slowly reached out and brushed a couple of streaks which had fallen into Bucky’s eyes behind his ear with his free hand and kept their eyes locked together, “you don’t have to prove anything. We’ll work everything out soon enough.”

“Neither did you”

“What did you just say?”

“You never had to go become Captain America or pick fights with people twice your size”, Bucky’s eyes were unfocused as he silently cleared his throat; he had no idea where this had come from so he tried to tell Steve everything before it went away again, “you were always worth more than all the other idiots and I- I’d always stood by your side, no matter what”

“I know, Buck”, and Steve _really_ did know, he always had. He gazed at the clock on the wall and sighed quietly before he squeezed Bucky’s hand again, “Bruce’s gonna be here soon, we should get ready”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapters will be longer; I only just realized, that it would probaly have been a better idea to publish chapter 2 and 3 in one go, I hope you still liked it.  
> Thank you for reading and until next weeek!


	4. To The Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How’s your head?”, he’d felt the slight lumps on the side of his head beneath his hair when he’d washed it earlier; rough patches of skin behind his temples and above his ears on either side and Steve wasn’t even sure whether he’d ever wanted to find out what had been done to him to cause this.

Steve was watching Bruce’s every move like a hawk.

“You’re making me nervous when you hover behind me like that”, Bruce told him over his shoulder before he carefully put Bucky’s arm into a sling and pulled it over his head and freshly washed hair, “I’ve done this before you know. - Is this okay?”, he directed the question at Bucky, who’d donned a pair of Steve’s sweatpants and hoodie and now was sitting cross-legged opposite from him on the small couch in his unofficial office, where the doctor was regularly patching up his team-mates when they’d gotten hurt on a mission and didn’t feel like going to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s official sickbay, and ignored the captain’s answer. Steve too had put on something more comfortable than his beaten up uniform, his hair still wet from the quick shower he’d taken while Bucky had dressed, and had been leaning against the doorframe the whole time.

“Yes, thank you”, Bucky carefully flexed his fingers as far the casket would allow and showed the two avengers a weak smile, his lips twitching slightly before he followed Bruce’s lead, got to his feet and scuffed over to Steve.

“You won’t need that for more than a couple of days, the bone’s already started healing but you should lay down and rest for some time”, the doctor turned off the light behind them, “and you ought to get him enough to eat and drink a lot of water, he’s severely underfed”, he told the captain - if he’d learned anything since he’d joined S.H.I.E.L.D. it was that his teammates never actually did what he told them to do after patching them up, so he usually settled for telling their spouse or best friend to take care of them as that at least sometimes tended to work.

“Do we have any plan, what we’re gonna do now?”, he asked after both Steve and Bucky had nodded dutifully as he walked them to the elevator.

“We’ll wait what Nat and Fury’ll find out. Until then, I’d suggest we lay low”, Steve pushed the button with his floor number when the doctor heaved a tired sigh and nodded whilst pinching the bridge of his nose; “this is just so… oh, never mind. See you tomorrow”

“Goodnight, Bruce and thank you”, the glass doors closed between them and Bruce waved him off, “G’night, Cap”

Steve pretended he didn’t notice that his friend had been crowding more and more into his personal space since they’d stepped into the cage - he was still moving in a very jerky way, his lips pulled tight and his eyes narrowed beneath a deep set frown - and lightly laid his own hand against his hip when they excited it and wandered to his living room, where he sat Bucky down on the more comfortable couch from where he’d have a good view of the rest of the living room, hallway and kitchen as Steve rummaged through the cabinets and fridge, ending up with a bottle of water, a loaf of bread and a can of soup he reheated and poured into a bowl he brought back to his friend. When he’d moved into the tower a while back, he’d been half glad that he didn’t have any furnishing to do since Tony and Loki had made sure that every avenger would have a place to come to, usually two units a floor, which they’d fit out in a stylish, yet neutral (never mind costly) way - JARVIS also made sure that each kitchen was stocked with a basic amount of food at all times. But now, with his childhood best friend, with whom he’d lived in the most crappy, tiny apartments of Brooklyn before the war, huddled in the middle of his living room he felt slightly uncomfortable, like he had to explain the extravagance surrounding them. He didn’t though and – even if Steve didn’t know it – it wouldn’t have made a difference; Bucky’d had the feeling that the walls had been closing in around him since he’d excited the car earlier but he wouldn’t show that to anyone, not even Steve. His fingers were twitching in his lap.

“Not as good as the stew you used to make but…”, he gently put bowl and spoon into his hands and placed the rest of the food and water bottle on the table before them, “I really have to go shopping again…”

“It smells great, thanks”, Bucky didn’t say anything else while he stirred his food, but he did turn his head slightly so he could peer at Steve through the streaks that kept falling into his face.

“How’s your head?”, he’d felt the slight lumps on the side of his head beneath his hair when he’d washed it earlier; rough patches of skin behind his temples and above his ears on either side and Steve wasn’t even sure whether he’d ever wanted to find out what had been done to him to cause this.

Bucky shrugged listlessly as he swallowed a spoonful of chicken-noodle-soup – he didn’t really feel like eating anything but after the first mouthful he discovered that he was _starving_ , his stomach rumbling and almost starting to tense up and cramp when it finally got fed after … he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d eaten, let alone what that had been. When he’d emptied the bowl, Steve swapped it for the water bottle and plate and went to get the rest of the soup, taking the empty bottle back and putting it down on the floor next to the couch after he’d sat down.

“Buck”, the captain trailed of after he’d disposed of the dishes, and then he stopped. All he wanted to do was hug him close, kiss him and not let go.

Almost like he’d done earlier - no, he wanted to do more than he’d dared earlier by the river, when he’d simply acted on instinct but he couldn’t, didn’t dare to, now; not after he’d seen what Hydra had done to Bucky’s body and was starting to see what they’d done to his mind - the awkwardness of his movements, his quiet winces, the way his eyes darted back and forth even as he sat as still as a statue. Like he didn’t actually belong in this world and kept falling out of it between statements. Steve was afraid to do the wrong thing and make things even worse for his friend, to rush him when he wasn’t ready; there had been some moments during which he’d thought, he’d gotten him back but that had only been flashes which were gone again almost right away.

“Bucky”, he said again, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder but dropped his hand, before he made contact with his skin when Bucky looked at him like he expected Steve to hit him, “do you- I mean, can I-“, he stopped again, rubbing the palm of his hand over his face, “do you want me to shut up?”, he eventually asked kind of helplessly when he didn’t get a reaction and Bucky quietly sighed.

“I’m sorry”, he whispered, turning his head away as he pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his left arm around them, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me”, his voice cracked audibly in the middle of the sentence, “it’s too much, Steve, I-”, he tried once more but a crack had appeared in the façade that was the Winter Soldier and he squeezed his eyes shut as a wrecked breath cut him off, jerkily rocking himself back and fro on the balls of his feet, his shoulders hunched forward and his fingers digging into his legs; he could feel the walls he’d put up around himself crumble.

His head felt like it were split in two and every word he forced out made it worse and worse and worse, “I have no idea what’s going on, everything- everything’s just- and I-“, he broke off, pressing his lips together, blinking rapidly and Steve decided to cast caution to the wind as he got up and sat down next to him, and pulled him close when Bucky finally did burst into tears, “I don’t know- I don’t know anything”

“I’ve got you, Bucky”, he tightened his grip around him after a couple of seconds when he wasn’t pushed away and lifted him into his lap – like Bucky had done with him a life time ago - his knees sliding in place on either side of him, “I won’t let anyone get to you. You’re safe here, alright?”, he pressed his lips to Bucky’s forehead, cradling the back of his head in his hand and slowly rocked them to and fro while Bucky cried harder, his whole body shaking as he clung to him, “it’s over, you hear? We got you out and we’re working on finishing Hydra off. Neither I nor anyone else here’s gonna let them hurt you again”, he continued, “Bucky, you’re gonna be alright” He went on and on, smoothing his hands down Bucky’s back and sides, kissing his face and hair. They sat like that for what felt like hours, until Bucky’s sobs died down and he collapsed against Steve, pushing his forehead into the crook of his neck just before he drifted off.

“I got you”, he said again as he rested his chin on the top of his head, still not letting go of him, “I got you, I got you and I’m not letting go, I promise”, He could feel his shirt stick to his chest where Bucky’s tears had soaked through and he was also able to feel the warmth of his heated up face against his neck, “I love you so much.”

He eventually got to his feet and carried Bucky to his bedroom where he laid him down in the middle of his bed, “It’s alright, I’m right here”, he told him, when Bucky mewled in his sleep, reaching out for him when he let go of him for a second before he settled down next to him, slung an arm around his waist and smoothed his hair out of his face with his other hand.

“May you turn off the lights, JARVIS?”, he quietly asked before he pressed his lips against the top of Bucky’s head.

When he finally did fall asleep, he had the best sleep he’d had in a long time; Bucky’s weight warm and comforting in his arms, his hair tickling his face and his slow breaths brushing against his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it!


	5. The General Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What the hell is your problem?”, Bucky demanded slightly hoarsely, his voice high pitched towards the end of his question but his pronunciation was normal again; syllables flowing easy instead of teetering over his teeth and getting stuck. He was able to breathe slightly easier.
> 
> “Like you’ve ever done anything I told you to without throwing a fit – if you did it at all, I mean”

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a good night’s sleep. To be more precise, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up feeling alright - feeling anything - at all. Of course, with the amount of things he wasn’t able to remember, this specific loss seemed laughable but when his eyelids fluttered – he did not yet open his eyes and continued to breathe evenly – the realization hit him and the content he’d been feeling until a second ago went slightly sour. Something definitely was weird, was _wrong_.

He was on his side; his left arm tugged under him and his right one resting on …something warm. He felt kind of cozy in general, not unpleasantly hot with a soft blanket pulled up to his nose and a warm arm slung around his waist; he was curled into someone he realized, his eyes snapping open.

Pushing himself up in one fluid motion he launched himself onto the person – man – next to him before his eyes had even adjusted to the dimness of the room, straddling his legs and firmly securing his upper body against the ground – the couch, Bucky realized – by planting his left arm onto his chest, his right fist up next to his head, despite the pain that shot through his arm as he moved it.

“Morning”, Steve kept his voice level as he slowly opened his eyes. He’d been awake for the better part of an hour but had not made a move to get up; not wanting to disturb Bucky who’d finally looked kind of at peace, snuggled into his chest without a frown on his face. That was over now however as Steve openly gazed up into his face, not making a move as his friend pinned him down with his entire weight and starred down at him without making a sound, his eyes darting around the room, “Bucky, it’s me, Steve”

“Steve”, he repeated tonelessly, fixing his eyes on his face, his lashes fluttering a couple of times as if he were trying to decipher the situation he’d found himself in, until his eyes finally lit up in recognition, “ _Steve_ ”, the lines on his forehead smoothed down.

“That’s right”, the captain carefully put his own hand over the metal one that was digging into his chest and Bucky instantly let go of him and rolled off his legs, “I’m sorry- Steve, I’m so-“

“Bucky, _it’s alright, seriously_ ”, he intoned whilst sitting up and prevented him from backing off further, ignoring the way his accent altered while he spoke, “no one expects one afternoon to undo… everything you went through since 1940 so please stop apologizing, okay?”

“But-“

“Look, I’ve only just gotten you back and there’s a lot I want to hear from you but you being sorry about something that’s not your fault ain’t one of them, you hear me?”, he laid both hands down on his shoulders, squeezing them between his fingers.

 _“But-“,_ Bucky started, vehemently digging his own fingers into the blanket that was pooling beneath him from where he’d kicked it off earlier and then had backed up onto it; there were more words that wanted to get out but they didn’t feel right, got stuck halfway and he was half glad that he was cut off before he was able to go on.

“ _No_ ”

“ _Yes_ ”, he finally snapped, “I have to apologize for these things, things I _am_ responsible for and I will keep doing it until I feel like it’s enough”, he glared at Steve, the words still wrong and awkward on his lips.

“That’s more like it”, Steve beamed at him after a moment of silence and Bucky’s eyes widened.

“What the hell is your problem?”, he demanded slightly hoarsely, his voice high pitched towards the end of his question but his pronunciation was normal again; syllables flowing easy instead of teetering over his teeth and getting stuck. He was able to breathe slightly easier.

“Like you’ve ever done anything I told you to without throwing a fit – if you did it at all, I mean”

_I’m getting you back, I don’t care how long it takes but I’m getting you back and I’m not letting you go._

“You’re insane”

“You want coffee for breakfast?”, Steve asked like the conversation was just over, got up and stretched his back and immediately frowned at Bucky as he made to follow his lead, “You’re not supposed to get out of bed”

“No, no you really are”, Bucky went on like he hadn’t heard the captain at all, starred at him like he’d suddenly grown an additional head, but settled back against the pillows, surely more out of shock than because he thought Steve was right.

He looked up at him and cocked his head to the side “and I- I think, I remember that”, breaking out into a soft, bewildered laugh, his eyes going big, he repeated the words, “Steve, I remember that”

 

\-----

 

Not every day went as smoothly though; some mornings Bucky wouldn’t come to properly, wouldn’t talk or even open his eyes completely and simply lay motionless beneath the sheets. On these days, he wouldn’t get up at all and Steve spent the majority of his time sitting by his side, Bucky’s head in his lap, and running his fingers through his hair, trying to coax at least a sign of life out of him or get him to eat and drink something from time to time. He himself talked to no end on these days, about news he’d picked up, about the other avengers and so on or he read to him; everything from books he loved himself to terribly cheesy dime novels similar to those Bucky had sometimes read to him in bed, back before the war, to make him blush. Sometimes, just sometimes the latter still made him snort or roll his eyes on bad days and Steve decided, it was definitely worth putting up with novelettes, titled “Flaming Passion” or similar cringe worthy phrases.

The period between noon and evening was alright more often than not and Bucky spent it, as well as most of his time usually with Steve unless the captain got called away on a mission. After a couple of weeks he started occasionally wandering through other parts of the tower, getting to know the rest of Steve’s friends, at least, those who were at the tower, trying to catch up by asking the disembodied voice of JARVIS to show him retrospects and documentaries spanning the time from 1930 until now on the TV in Steve’s – their – lounge or consulting the therapist Natasha and Phil had helped him find.

No one had yet outright talked to him about his future at S.H.I.E.L.D., whether he would officially join the team or not at some point and Bucky was quite glad about that; attempting to pierce his mind back together took enough out of him and until he’d managed that he wasn’t much use to anyone anyway. He wasn’t even sure whether he’d manage it at all and apart from a handful of flashes of memories all he’d succeeded in since he’d gotten Steve back had been learning how to cope with perpetual migraines and the panic attacks that kept catching him off guard from time to time.

Nights were tough.

One of the effects of the super-serum was that both Steve and Bucky didn’t need nearly as much sleep as regular people but, especially during his recovery from decades of torture, extreme physical strain and repeated periods spent in cryo-stasis, his body, as well as his mind, needed as much rest as possible and Steve made sure that he didn’t stay up until he literally passed out from exhaustion.

This, however resulted in him dreading every sunset because they meant he only had a couple of hours left until he had to settle down for the night – a virtual invitation for everything he wanted to forget and every bad memory he wanted to get rid of. So, each night he was silently fidgeting among Steve (and sometimes other avengers as well), his movements becoming jerkier and jerkier the later it got until, by the time he went to bed, his stomach was tied to knots and he felt actually nauseous.

“You don’t have to do this, you know”, Steve finally had the courage to point out after about a month of that, leaning up against the frame of the bedroom Bucky had basically moved into and his best friend more or less jumped off the edge of the bed.

“What do you mean?”, he didn’t really succeed in making his sitting back down look casual but pulled his legs up onto the mattress and tipped back his head anyway. One of the first things he’d done once he’d started getting better had been asking Steve for a razor to properly shave - he just hadn’t been able to stand the dark stubble any longer; another mark Hydra had left on his body, another symbol of them debasing him to a mere tool, a mere thing they could use as they pleased - and his neck looked utterly pale in the dimmed light as he swallowed uneasily and Steve suddenly found it rather difficult to look away, his mouth going dry as he watched Bucky’s Adam’s apple bob.

“You don’t have to sleep alone if you don’t want to. You can stay with me”

“Steve, come on”, Bucky didn’t look at him as he rubbed his right hand over the back of his neck, the casket and sling he’d gotten from Dr. Banner had come off after a week and his arm was as good as new, “I’m not a kid anymore, I can’t-“

“Of course you can”, Steve pushed himself off the doorframe and sat down next to him, gently bumping their shoulders together. He didn’t say that they both knew that he would end up running to Bucky’s side in an hour or two when he screamed in his sleep – mostly in Russian or English but other languages mixed in on occasion as well - and would then stay with him till the end of the night anyway, “Hey, since when does Sergeant Barnes care what other people think of him?”

“I don’t”, Bucky glared at him and stuck his tongue out. They both pretended that he hadn’t hesitated several seconds before answering.

“Come on”, Steve continued in a softer voice and slung his arm around his shoulders, squeezing his right arm and then simply pulled him with him as he got to his feet and went to his own bedroom.

“I mean, you do have the nicer room”, Bucky attempted a half-hearted grin as he walked next to Steve, mentally cursing; himself because the prospect of a couple of hours on his own shouldn’t send him into panicked fits, his body for immediately starting to relax and unwind as Steve touched him and his heart for beating faster every time he as much as gazed at him, “it’s no wonder you get better rest in there”

Steve was looking after him most of the time already, comforting him when he was in a bad place or making sure he followed Dr. Banner’s instructions and it scared Bucky how much he actually depended on his help; he had no illusion that his childhood best friend and his putting up with him, as well as all the fuss he was bringing along, were the only reasons he had made it even this far and had the chance to try and get better and he was constantly afraid that it would end up being too demanding of Steve. It had always been his job to make sure Steve was okay, his _most important_ job and he hadn’t even managed that properly.

They had not yet properly talked about several things; the seventy years they’d spent apart and exactly how they’d spent them for example or what was going to happen when Bucky recovered and what would happen if he didn’t and basically every topic that Steve thought too tender to discuss. The nature of their relationship back in 1930 was apparently among those and it became harder and harder for both of them to sidestep it as well as the train of thought it was connected to.

Steve did his best to not let anything shine through as he tried to settle for just being Bucky’s best friend again but he was aware of the fact that he was doing a pretty lousy job at that and behaved more like a lovestruck teenager than anything else around him, his gazes too long and too heavy and his touches more affectionate than casual, never mind the nightly cuddling when Bucky screamed in his sleep. It had been seventy years after all and Steve tried to tell himself that just having him back safely as a friend was more than he could have ever have hoped for and therefore enough, disregarding the question whether he would be able to deal with knowing that Bucky didn’t feel anything for him anymore by telling himself that it was too early to have this conversation and that it would merely put pressure on him.

Bucky however silently cherished every gaze that was too long to be casual and every time Steve touched him more like a lover than a friend but he didn’t dare take the captain up on it. He vaguely remembered them being more like this, more than friends; him holding Steve in his arms at night and whispering sweet nothings to him before he fell asleep, holding hands when they were in private, charcoal stains from Steve’s pencils on his fingers and Bucky’s skin and his heart beating faster when he as much as thought about him, like it did now when Steve turned off the ceiling lights and slipped into bed beside him and his fingers itched to touch, and the warm feeling which had settled in his chest and stomach without him even noticing and now was constantly there.

“You don’t have to do this”, he silently echoed Steve’s words from earlier but edged closer to him so their arms brushed together. The bed he remembered had been a lot smaller but so had been Steve and he himself had been an entirely different man as well. Back then he had not needed an excuse for pushing closer allowing his fingers to touch, to explore, to caress either.

“If it makes you feel better”, Steve turned off the lamp on his nightstand as well and laid his hand down on Bucky’s chest when he jumped slightly at the sudden darkness and let it stay there until he breathed evenly again, “I sleep better with you here, so you’re actually doing me a favor as well”, his hand slid down as Bucky carefully twisted onto his side; he always laid to Steve’s left, so the arm was under him and the risk of it accidently touching Steve, heaven forbid his bare skin, was reduced. He’d had to make do by using that arm while his real one had been broken, even had to have Steve touch it and try acting like that was okay on any level and he felt sick just thinking about that now.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed Steve’s hand again and laid it down on his waist, his own hand gently holding it in place even as Steve started gently rubbing his fingers above the thin undershirt he wore and he could feel his skin tingle where they touched.

“Yeah of course”, Bucky laid his head against his shoulder when he pulled him close and laid his real hand carefully against Steve’s smooth jowl, ready to pretend that he was brushing away a stray eyelash as soon as the other would tense up at the touch, “’m the best teddy bear there is” _as long as you don’t mind a cold piece of metal digging into your side which could kill you at virtually any point of the night_.

“Exactly”, Steve nuzzled into his palm on instinct but stopped and went still after a second or two.

“I miss you”, Bucky whispered so softly, he half hoped in went unheard, and pulled back his hand. God, what was he doing? He would end up ruining this – whatever it was – without even being able to tell why.

“I’m right here and I’m not going-“

“I know”, deciding that he had gone too far to stop now, Bucky laid his head further back against the captain’s arm so he could look directly into Steve’s eyes in the dim light the moon cast through the windows, “I miss _this_ ”, he stretched up and closed the distance between them, closing his eyes as the captain gasped against his lips and opened them again as Steve carefully pulled back and asked in a soft voice, “You remember?”

“Of course-“, Bucky started but hesitated for a second because it hadn’t been exactly certain that he _would_ remember, “yeah, I do”, he tried to kiss him again but Steve held him back and Bucky could feel his blood run cold.

“We don’t have to do this”, Bucky’s eyes stung and suddenly the hand that was still on his waist felt like it was burning him through the fabric, “Bucky, I love you, I really do but if you don’t really feel the same anymore, you don’t have to pretend to-“, Steve forced himself to continue, worrying his lip between his teeth as he tried to look at his friend and Bucky wanted to slap him across his stupid face because only Steve Rogers would make everything more complicated to make sure he wasn’t taking advantage of anyone.

“Shut up”, he cupped his face with both hands and kissed him again, “I don’t want this because of a memory so shut up you stupid, stupid, good man“, he whispered when Steve covered his hands with his own and finally kissed him back, wrapping his arms around him and rolling them over so Bucky was on top of him, his fingers knotting in Steve’s short blond streaks while the tips of his own spilled over his own face tickled the captain’s jowls, “you goddamn moron, you’re so-”

“I know, Buck”, one of Steve’s hands had come to rest on the small of his back, the other one in the nape of his neck and he held him so tight, he was almost afraid of hurting him but Bucky pushed closer as well as they caught their breath, “I know, I’m sorry”

“Don’t let go”, Bucky pressed his forehead against Steve’s, pushing a couple of stray streaks out of his face, “okay? As long as you can stand me, don’t-”

“Never”

“I’m serious”, he huffed against the captain’s lips and rolled his eyes but Steve could hear the smile in his voice, could feel it against his own mouth a second later.

“As am I”, he gently run his hand up and down his back, shifting Bucky’s weight a little to the left and sucked in a quiet breath when the thigh Bucky had in between his shifted as well.

“Would-would you mind if we didn’t-”, Bucky whispered in a hoarse voice, awkwardly ducking his head as his body tensed up and tried to curl in on itself, “I’m sorry, I don’t-“

“Don’t be stupid”, Steve pressed his lips against his forehead and gently tugged him closer until Bucky laid his head down on his chest, his nose brushing against his collarbone, “god, I can’t tell you how glad I am to have you back”

“I think, I got the general idea”, Bucky hesitantly slung his arm around Steve’s chest, his right leg still pushed between the captain’s, so he ended up laying on top of him halfway, clutching tightly onto him when Steve hugged him even closer and twirled the longer streaks in the nape of his neck around his fingers while Bucky nuzzled his head in the crook of his neck until he finally fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading this and I really hoped you enjoyed it, as always. Comments would be lovely.
> 
> I might add a couple of extra chapters or a Sequel if you'd you like that.

**Author's Note:**

> What should have happened at the end of the movie.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, comments would be lovely,
> 
> Lots of Love <3
> 
> By the way; you could say that this is connected with my "Blue To Green To Blue"-series, but you do not have to read that one as well.


End file.
